


Intoxicated Fantasies

by LovetheBlueCascades, SketchySquiggles



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Play, Kink, M/M, Oral Vore, Vore, all of the kink, chubby tord is great???, i never see any good eddsworld vore fics??? ima change that lmao, liquid play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 01:08:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10060913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovetheBlueCascades/pseuds/LovetheBlueCascades, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SketchySquiggles/pseuds/SketchySquiggles
Summary: When Tom accidentally falls into the hands of a tipsy Tord, he can't get enough of what the communist has to offer him.  (FIRST FANFICTION. I HAVEN'T GOTTEN A GOOD NIGHTS SLEEP IN A WEEK BARE WITH ME PLEASE LMAO)





	

The sting of the shrink ray finally wears off and Tom can finally regain an upright position. He presses his hands against the glass cup the Norwegian placed over him, watching him twist open a bottle of alcohol-his Smirnoff, which he isn't pleased with seeing-. Tord inhales the liquid and sighs, shivering in delight as a 'hot' scent fills his nose.  
"No wonder why you like this stuff Thomas, gives you a buzz before you even sip it." The communist glances at the tiny human in the cup before sitting down at the table it was placed on. He places the Smirnoff bottle down beside the cup and lifts it up a little, giving Tom a chance to breathe the air outside the cup, yet lifting it up a small smidgen so he won't be able to escape the glass trap. Tom pounds on the glass, he doesn't need eyes to show his irritation towards his captor. Tord chuckles and puts the cup back down, unscrewing the loose cap on the bottle and pressing it against his dry lips. He allows some of the clear alcohol into his waiting mouth, swishing it around and then swallowing, making sure his entire mouth gets a taste of the strong beverage. Tom huffs at the sight and crosses his arms, kicking the table below him. Tord chuckles at the small mans pouting and he flicks the cup, causing a sharp ring to pass through Toms ears. Tom squints in pain and covers his ears, feeling the noise start to pound in his head.  
"What the fuck was that for, you commie fucker?????" Tom shouts through the cup. He doesn't get the response he's looking for sadly, as the Norwegian takes another huge gulp of the vile tasting drink. Tord glances down at the bottle and then at the cup. He licks his lips, shivering and chuckling at the taste of rubbing alcohol numbing his mouth up like an ice cube to a bruise. He places the thin bottle down on the table and grabs a piece of paper, sliding the paper under the cup and lifting it up off of the table. Tom presses his back against the cup and squeezes his fingers against the smooth surface to the best of his ability. Suddenly, the cup flips over, causing Tom to lose his train of thought as he falls back first to the bottom of the cup. The paper is lifted off of the top and the cup is placed back down on the table.  
Tom lifts himself up with his elbows, groaning in pain as his eyes drift to Tord's dark amber ones. "You've been good so far, Tommy~" The intoxicated communist slurs, rolling a finger around the rim of the glass.  
"Wh-?" Tom can't think of anything to counter with. The whole scenario is as confusing as a Rubix Cube. He tries getting up and climbing out, which only leads to him falling on his ass. The Norwegian snorts at the Brit's attempt of escape, and grabs the bottle. "Don't be naughty, Thomas. I was just about to reward you~" He grins. Tom blinks and looks up, only to be caught off-guard when Tord begins pouring the Smirnoff into the cup. He gets drenched, his clothes soaked and smelling of nail polish remover. Tord fills the cup up to Tom's waist, putting the bottle back down again.  
"Go ahead.~ It's yours." Tord leans back, shoving his hands in his pockets as he watches the small man get used to his frigid surroundings. Tom ponders about his situation. 'Why not make the most out of it...at least he's giving me some.' He nods to himself and slowly sits down in the cup, allowing some of the Smirnoff into his mouth. He swallows and sighs, this is exactly what he needs right now. He continues drinking for about a minute before taking a break, feeling his throat burn in pleasure. Tord leans forward again, starting to fill the cup more.  
"T-Tord, I'm good.." Tom starts to feel the cold liquid go up further than his waist, freezing in his place a little. "U-Uhm, you can stop now.." It's at his shoulders now. Tord finally stops, almost ready to scream-yet he doesn't to keep his dignity-. Tord picks up the cup and without a warning, presses it against his lips, beginning to drink it. Tom's eyes flash white and he splashes, attempting to back up away from the communist's mouth. "Holy shit, Tord stop !" Tom manages to shout through the Smirnoff surfacing in his mouth as he gasps for air. Tord stops drinking for a moment, Tom sliding down back into the back of the cup, the pressure of his back hitting the bottle causing him to hiccup. "Wh-Why are you doing this???" He questions the communist, who is busy rubbing his red, flushed face.  
"Whatever do you mean, love~?" Tord slurs, a few drips of drool sliding out of his mouth and onto his chin. Tom's cheeks go hot as well, his heart skipping a beat at the Commie's name for him. 'Love'? Was this intentional? His thinking stops once again as Tord begins drinking from the glass again. Tom, not sure of what he's to do, allows himself to slide down the cold wet glass into Tord's mouth. It's a lot warmer than the cup that's for sure. And despite the smokey, chocolate scented aroma and the sharp, yellow tinted teeth, it's actually kind of nice in there. Wait, what the fuck is he saying!? This is fucking disgusting! He shouldn't be in here, he might die!  
"Tord, l-let me out.." He honestly doesn't sound as scared as he did before. The tone of his voice merely sounds more flustered. Tord snickers and finishes off the glass, placing it down on the table and leaning back in the chair. He moves his tongue around, hitting Tom with the tip, getting saliva all over him-that that it mattered, he was already wet as it is-. Suddenly, Toms face turns a bright red and he squeaks as he feels Tord's tongue slide across his crotch. The Brit bites his lip and backs up a little, slipping right near the esophagus. He screams a little and hangs onto one of Tord's molars for support, pulling himself back up. He huffs and sits down on Tord's teeth, feeling the slight bulge in his pants.  
"Haha, Tommy, you okay in there?" Tord coos, his speech a little messed up because of the person inside of his maw.  
Tom stops touching himself and he swallows. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. A l-little nervous but fine." He bites his lip and moans quietly, feeling his stomach flip.  
"Good~" Tord grins and leans his head back, pushing Tom with his tongue and swallowing the remainder of the Smirnoff along with the blue clad male.  
Tom inhales sharply as he is swallowed, feeling Tord's throat pulsate to get him down. Saliva covers his entire body along with a bit more Smirnoff. After about what seemed like a few minutes Tom is pushed and shoved into Tord's stomach. He drops into a puddle of Smirnoff, safe acid, and mucus lining. He groans as he wipes the concoction from his face. Tord exhales softly, feeling his stomach fill up a little more. He leans back and unzips his skinny jeans, letting his somewhat erect cock breathe through his pastel blue boxers. Tom feels his body temperature raise slightly, he shivers slightly, feeling his cock pulse. He hesitates before sliding his pants down, moving over to a slightly less wet part of the Communist's stomach and allowing his hand to graze his cock, slight whimpers escaping his closed mouth in an attempt to keep his actions hidden from Tord. Tord huffs slightly when he feels Tom move across his stomach floor. He looks at the half empty bottle and then down at his stomach, feeling it bubble in disagreement. Tom looks around as he feels the alcohol splash him in the face, making his quick movements slow down. "Wh-What's wrong?"  
Tord presses on his stomach a little and hiccups, trying to get the air out. "I can't drink like you can I guess..pffbt-" Tord slides his fingers through his hair, messing it up more than it was.  
"Yeah, no shit, it's getting all over me..." Tom rolls his non existent eyes as he continues to masturbate within the Communist. Tord finally cant handle himself as he begins to stroke himself as well, feeling his stomach gurgle with the liquid inside of him. Tom hears the squishes Tord's stomach is emitting and shivers, feeling his cheeks grow hotter with each noise his ears take in.  
Time goes by with quiet moans and loud-ish stomach noises guiding these two to their climaxes, both of them, completely unaware of what the other was doing at this time. Tom scratches his red thighs and he finally moans loud enough for Tord to hear. Toms load slides into Tord's stomach acid, it being broken down within seconds of its entrance. Tord feels his stomach bubble again and he huffs, feeling his load slide down from the tip of his cock, onto his hand and down onto the wooden chair. He huffs and pants, his tongue sliding out of his mouth and his eyes clenching up tight. "F-Fuck, Thomas...."  
"T-Tord, shut the fuck up....." Tom mumbles, feeling the last bit of his load go onto his hand. He slightly whimpers at how hot Tords stomach had gotten and he wipes the sweat and other bodily fluids off his face. "T-Tord..."  
Tord hesitates to clean himself up the best he can without getting up. "Wha-?" He's gotten a little less tipsy over the span of the session, so he can properly understand things. "What's up.."  
"Can you...let me out?" Tom doesn't want to leave, but he doesn't want to sweat to death either. Tord makes a noise, indicating he agreed. He gets up, his stomach shifting, causing Tom to fall into the acid a little. It stings slightly, but not as much to cause any real harm.  
"Ready?" Tord stretches and groans, feeling stiff from sitting down.  
"Uhuh..." Tom answers bracing himself. Tord presses on the top part of his stomach softly, and then punches. He wheezes and bends down, gagging a little. Toms eyes widen as he feels the liquids being sent up out of the hole and back up the esophagus, him going along as well.

SPLAT!

Tord huffs and leans against the counter as he wipes himself off. A now, full sized, wet Tom, uses a mop to clean up the throw up on the floor, looking back at the communist with the same dull expression. Tord looks up at Tom and smiles wearily, his cheeks flushing red again. He finally earns a small smile from the Brit, as he continues to mop up the floor.

"Tom! Tord! We're back!"

Tord and Tom both look at each other, realizing who walked in. "Fuck"


End file.
